Against the Wind: A Kirsten Larson Fanfic
by saintsinthesea
Summary: Kirsten Larson meets and falls in love with the handsome Phillip Schuss, but complications arise when prejudices threaten their romance. Bound by their love, Kirsten and Phillip endure hardships and make daring decisions to keep their love alive.


_Author's Note:_

_I don't own any of the original American Girl characters; I only own The Schuss family and any other character that was not featured in the books._

_This is my very first fanfiction, so enjoy!_

_This is dedicated to felicityphoenix, who inspired me with her wonderful stories about Felicity and Ben! 3_

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

Kirsten Larson rode in the passenger seat of the wagon as her and her older brother, Lars, rode into town. Anoka, Minnesota, was a small and bustling town, just on the banks of the Rum River. It was a mild summer day with a gust of wind and bright blue sky.

"Drop me off at the store, Lars," Kirsten said as he neared Hanson's Mercantile.

Lars pulled up to the front of the store and pulled the reins. "Do you have the list Mama gave you?"

Kirsten nodded. "Is there anything you need?"

Lars thought for a second. "Yes, give me some tobacco."

Kirsten quizzically looked at him. "Since when did you start smoking?"

Lars slyly smiled. "Since Malin told me she was pregnant! I must look distinguished if I'm going to be a father!"

Kirsten laughed. "Very well. Pick me up in about half an hour."

"Okay," Lars said as Kirsten hopped off the wagon. "I'll be at Petersen's mill if you need me."

Kirsten Larson was no longer the small, little Swede with blond braided loops. At seventeen years old, she filled out to a more womanly, mature figure. Her long blond hair was now braided in a more mature-looking crown atop her head. Her eyes were still ever-so crystal blue, and her smile was bright and luminescent. She had a round face with a cute, pert nose and rosy cheeks and lips. Kirsten looked as if she was a little Swedish china doll.

Kirsten walked into Hanson's and was immediately greeted by Mr. Hanson's youngest daughter, Ingrid, who was a year younger than Kirsten.

"_Hallå_, Kirsten!"

"_Hallå_, Ingrid!"

Ingrid was a cute, bubbly Scandinavian girl with big brown eyes and chestnut hair to match.

"Can I help you with something today, Kirsten?"

"Yes," Kirsten pulled out a list from her apron pocket. "Mama will need a sack of flour and corn meal, along with some herring."

Ingrid pulled the items out of shelf behind the counter. "Anything else?"

"Yes, Lars needs some tobacco."

"What brand?"

"I'm not sure. He's a beginner pipe smoker, so just choose one for him."

Ingrid laughed. "Very well, I will see what we have in the storage room."

As Ingrid went to the storage room, Kirsten looked around the store. It wasn't very busy that day, only a few familiar faces… except for one.

Over by the books, Kirsten noticed a young man about twenty-one. He had thick, rich brown hair; his deep, turquoise eyes were staring intently in a book he had in his hands. Kirsten knew it was impolite to stare, but she couldn't help herself.

"Okay, Kirsten, here you go. Anything else?"

"Yes, Ingrid. I need the name of that man!"

Ingrid furrowed her brow. "Who are you talking about?"

Kirsten pointed ahead. "_Him_!"

Ingrid peered. "Oh, I see!" She leaned in and whispered in Kirsten's ear. "His name is Phillip Schuss. His family is from Minneapolis. They've moved here to set up a law firm."

"Law firm?" Kirsten asked quizzically.

"Yes. Mr. John Schuss is a lawyer. Since Anoka is growing, he thought the town would need a lawyer."

"Ah, I see." Kirsten continued to watch Phillip read; he was completely engrossed in a novel.

"Introduce me to him, Ingrid!"

Ingrid shook her head and blushed. "I couldn't do _that_, Kirsten! I don't know him very well."

"Fine," Kirsten said. She beamed as she tilted her head. "I suppose I'll have to do it myself!" Ingrid's brown eyes followed Kirsten as she nervously watched.

Kirsten began to look casually at some books on the shelf, picking up a copy of _Pride and Prejudice_, all the while glancing at Phillip. He was classically handsome- tall, dark, and chiseled.

Kirsten pretended to read for a few more moments, then she turned her head and looked straight at him. He stared so intently at the book, not moving a muscle. He was so handsome, more handsome than the other local boys. And exotic. He did not have the look of a Swede about him, which made him more appealing to Kirsten.

As she stared at him, her face blushed hotly. She felt her stomach churn nervously. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a breath of air escaped from her lips. She tried again, to no avail. Afraid that he may catch her staring at him, Kirsten put the book back on the shelf and paced back to the counter.

Ingrid's face was plastered with disappointment. "What happened?"

"I got nervous," Kirsten sighed impatiently. "Besides, propriety demands formal introductions." She leaned against the counter and rested her chin on her fist.

She was disappointed in herself. She was always afraid to do things. She could never face her fears, let alone conquer them. Something, an unforeseen and invisible force, barred her from her goals.

As she wallowed in self-pity, she heard footsteps creeping up beside her. She turned to see that it was Phillip, with the book in hand. She instantly walked to the left side of the store to look at the cloth, and to avoid him. As she examined the calico material, she carefully listened to their conversation.

"Will this be all, Phillip?"

"Yes ma'am." Kirsten secretly reveled in his politeness.

"Fifty cents is your total."

Phillip dug in his pockets and handed Ingrid two silver coins.

"How is your day, Phillip?"

"Just fine," he said. "Busy with arranging the house."

"I bet all the townsfolk are coming to see your family," Ingrid said slyly. Kirsten knew it was a segue way for an introduction. Her heart pumped faster.

Phillip laughed. "Yes. I can't tell you how many plates of pickled herring and Swedish meatballs we have in the house from our neighbors!"

Ingrid chuckled alongside him. "Speaking of neighbors, I would like to introduce you to my friend." Kirsten's stomach did a somersault. It was now or never.

"Kirsten?" Kirsten turned around and looked straight at Ingrid, not daring to make eye contact with Phillip just yet. "I have someone to introduce you to." Kirsten walked up to the counter.

"Kirsten Larson, this is Phillip Schuss. He moved here from Minneapolis with his family."

Phillip stared, almost in awe, at Kirsten. "Hi," he said eagerly, extending his hand out to her.

"Hello," Kirsten said as she placed her tiny hand in his. "Welcome to Anoka."

"Thank you," he said, genuinely appreciative of Kirsten's warmth. His smile grew bigger as Kirsten grinned at him. "So, I take it that you two are friends?"

"Yes," Ingrid answered. "I met her on her first day at school. She didn't know a lick of English, so I helped her."

"I take it you're from Sweden?" he asked.

"Yes," Kirsten answered proudly. "I'm from Ryd, in the south."

He smiled again, nodding. "You know, if you never told me that, I would have never guessed you weren't born here. You don't have an accent at all!"

Kirsten giggled. She was excited to be noticed by a young man. "Well, it was a lot of practice."

"Can you still speak Swedish?"

"Oh, yes! We speak Swedish at home."

"That is really interesting!" He continued to gaze at her while Ingrid placed Kirsten's purchases in a sack.

"You're all set, Kirsten."

"_Tack så mycket_, Ingrid!" she answered in Swedish, just to add to his fascination of her.

"Bye, Kirsten!"

Kirsten turned toward the door, but Phillip stepped in front of her. "Let me help you with those."

Kirsten smiled. "Thank you, Phillip, but my brother will be here any minute."

"Well, until then, I will keep you company." He put his hands in his pockets as he followed her out the door.

Kirsten tried to keep her composure as he walked alongside her. Never had any boy, or man, given her so much attention. She could hardly keep her lips from turning up at the corners.

"How do you like Anoka so far?" Kirsten casually asked. They stepped off of the mercantile porch and onto White Street.

"I like it," he said. "It's different from Minneapolis, much smaller and calmer."

"I bet," Kirsten answered. "I've been to Minneapolis a few times with my father, and I am amazed at the size of it."

"Was your hometown in Sweden large?" Phillip asked. Kirsten was astonished at his genuine interest in her.

Kirsten rolled her blue eyes up in thought, trying to conjure up an image of her homeland.

"From what I remember, it was tiny," she said. "It was a rural, farming town, a lot like Anoka." She paused, then added, "I bet you miss Minneapolis."

Phillip nodded. "A little bit," he admitted.

"Did you live there your whole life?"

Phillip nodded again, this time with a serious countenance. "Yes. It is an adjustment to live somewhere else, especially a small farming town like this one."

"I hope you will like it here," Kirsten said lightly.

He smiled again; it was gorgeous. "I think I will," he answered confidently.

Kirsten heard the clopping of hooves behind her. She turned her head to see Lars heading down the street.

"Well, I'm afraid I must go," Kirsten apologetically said. "My brother is here."

"Oh," Phillip's face showed a mark of disappointment. "Well, it was nice meeting you." He almost sounded sad.

Kirsten softly smiled, feeling melancholy, too. "The pleasure was all mine." As she turned to meet with Lars, she heard him interject.

"Wait!" He touched her shoulder.

Kirsten faced him, startled, but not upset, at his touch. Little shockwaves rippled through her stomach.

"Can I… can I see you again? I mean, I know we just met, but I-" He nervously ran his fingers through his tousled dark hair, sputtering. Inside, he was searching for the right words to say. He wanted to see her again, but was afraid of coming off as brash. Luckily, Kirsten nodded.

"Of course. I would like that, Phillip." He felt giddy inside when he heard her voice speak his name; it was like the jaunty sound of bells.

"Okay. Great." He grinned from ear to ear, feeling both relief and anxiousness. This beautiful Swedish maiden was giving him the time of day. He felt overjoyed. Many girls like him, but none had ever captivated him like the talkative farm girl.

"Goodbye," Kirsten said.

"Goodbye, Kirsten," he answered. Kirsten turned away, but she could feel his gaze watch her as she walked up to Lars's buggy, which was parked on the side of the road.

"Did you get everything?" Lars asked, curiously looking at the strange man talking to his sister.

"Yes," she grabbed his hand and swung herself up on the passenger side of the wagon. "I didn't know what kind of tobacco you liked, so I had Ingrid pick one out for you."

"That's fine," Lars said absently as he flicked the reins, still thinking about the odd young man who had his eye on his precious sister. As she passed by Phillip, who was still standing there on the street, she gave him a tight, mild smile. In return, he bowed his head down.

When they reached the rural outskirts, Lars questioned her. "Who was that?"

"Who?" Kirsten asked, pretending to be oblivious. She didn't want to make a big fuss about her infatuation with the new fellow in town, because she was certain that every girl within a ten-mile radius would be vying for his attention… and affection.

"That guy who was standing near Hanson's store." Kirsten was surprised; she couldn't tell if he was angry or overprotective.

"Oh, _him_," Kirsten exclaimed. "His name is Phillip Schuss. He is new in town. His father is a lawyer." After she finished speaking, she realized she sounded like an overzealous schoolgirl.

"Uh-huh," Lars answered. He chewed the straw that was hanging out of his mouth, letting the situation mentally stew in his brain. "Have you taken a liking to him?

Kirsten groaned. "Lars, why must you ask that question?"

"Because," he paused, trying to rein in his emotions. "_Because_, you're my sister, and I love you."

Kirsten was touched by his gentleness. "Oh Lars, I love you too!" She leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Lars threw the straw out of his mouth. "Let's not get carried away now, Kirsten!" Kirsten chuckled and repositioned herself. But Lars secretly smiled to himself. He wasn't the kind of man who was overly mushy and emotional, but deep love for his siblings, especially his sisters, stirred deeply in his soul. He looked over at Kirsten and noticed her wheat-colored flyaway strands blowing in the wind and her blue eyes dancing across the Minnesota landscape. He remembered her standing on the deck of the _Eagle_, so small and childish looking. Now, she was a full-fledged woman, and eligible to marry. She was a grown woman.

She wasn't his baby sister anymore.


End file.
